


We Live in a Beautiful World

by Monkey45214



Series: Secret Lockdown [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Abusive Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, Canonical Character Death, Child Abuse, Communication Failure, Dark Bruce Wayne, Don't read if you have any triggers, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, Fucked Up, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lack of Communication, M/M, Manipulation, Manipulative Bruce Wayne, Manipulative Relationship, Multi, On Hiatus, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Rape Aftermath, Self-Hatred, Sexuality Crisis, The Flying Graysons - Freeform, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-01-15 09:06:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21250883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monkey45214/pseuds/Monkey45214
Summary: The snap of rope marked the death of him. Or at least, the death of that version of him. The Dick Grayson so many adored, shattered, just as their bones did.The largest pieces of him were taken by an equally shattered person. The unneeded shards were discarded. He simplified himself into a caricature of his former glory, all in the vain hope of pleasing this shattered man.Dick occasionally wished that he never met this broken man, that his bones shattered with his family instead of his soul shattering without.*****Please read the tags if you have any triggers or are sensitive to mature or dark content.





	1. It's Not As Bad

**Author's Note:**

> I have been sitting on this fic for a long time. This was actually the first one I ever wrote but I have always been too embarrassed to post. I was always worried I wouldn't do the topic justice or portray the characters realistically.
> 
> I have come to the conclusion that this is a story that needs to be told. This is the combination of tons of different terrible things that have happened-or could have happened- to Dick Grayson in the comics, finally given room to breath and be explored. 
> 
> This will have many different horrible things in it. The only relationships that have non-con are with Bruce, Miriam(Mirage), and Catalina(Tarantula).
> 
> VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED

The snap of rope marked the death of him. Or at least, the death of that version of him. The Dick Grayson so many adored, shattered, just as their bones did.

The largest pieces of him were taken by an equally shattered person. The unneeded shards were discarded. He simplified himself into a caricature of his former glory, all in the vain hope of pleasing this shattered man.

Dick occasionally wished that he never met this broken man, that his bones shattered with his family instead of his soul shattering without.

——————————-

Dick had always valued family. The circus was his family, filled with bonds not of blood, but of love. His caring nature made him want to be close to the others. He was the circus’s Robin, and that meant he was their family.

Bruce valued family in a different way. His idea of family being some sort of  _ obligation  _ sent Dick for a loop. His love was shown through layers, not the open displays of affection he was used to. It was behind growling, pats on the shoulder, or small huffs (barking laughs, but only rarely) when amused.

Dya and Dat taught him that family was a blessing and something to be treasured. Bruce taught him that family was drenched in pain and grief, but there were always shining moment of happiness. Dick secretly hoped Dya and Dat were right. But over the years, he has concluded that both sides are right.

Dick just wanted a hug once in a while. An “I love you” would also have been great. But, he learned not to get his hopes up anymore.

He wasn’t at Haley’s anymore.

———————————-

Adjusting to life at the manor was pure Hell. 

The constant switch between Dick Grayson and Robin wore him to the bone. He now had to be  _ careful _ in every situation, every thought needed to be filtered before being said. Information needed to be guarded to the death. 

Putting on masks like this made Dick uncomfortable, he wanted freedom and fluidity. Honesty was a value he was taught to cherish by parents. 

Batman was a good man, not an honest one.

Learning the etiquette and routines that surround Wayne Manor and the Gotham elite was horrible. Their fake natures made Dick want to somersault out the nearest window. Their plastic faces and paper-stiff clothes made him want to cartwheel out the nearest door. He wanted to punch the next condescending elite in their Botox riddled nose.

But of course that was not proper. Dick was already on thin ice for being a “circus brat”.

Discipline was also completely different. Dat and Dya punished with a spank and a timeout. As he grew up, it started to just be added chores. Afterwards, Dat would take him to work on the rings. Dya would cuddle with him and read him children’s books in many different languages. Dat would always say how much he loved Dick, no matter if he was in trouble or not. Dya would just smile her signature grin and say how much she loved her little mischievous Robin.

Bruce was a different story. His punishments were a smack to the face and training sessions that usually left him bloody and unconscious. The most effective punishment was the loss of Robin. The loss of a part of himself that his Dya loved so deeply when she was alive. And at the end of it all, there was no comfort, just a blank face.

Alfred was a shining beacon through it all. His calm and collected demeanor could be unnerving, but was also extremely relaxing. Dick loved Alfred. His weathered hands were gentle against wounds. His no nonsense attitude kept Dick from losing himself completely. It was a pity he got stuck with Bruce and Dick, he deserved better.

——————-

There were many things to be pissed off at the Joker for.

Dick probably had the weirdest reason.

Joker ruined clowns for him.

Dick has always fondly remembered Haley’s clowns, as they had been his uncles(not through blood). Uncle Mony and Tery taught him all the tips and tricks of being a successful clown. They even let him sneak in rehearsals after Aunt Jimin dressed him up.

Clown makeup used to be a comfort to him, now it is a staple in his nightmares.

——————

Patrol was special. His hair whipping in the wind, the hum of Gotham, and the thwaping of a relaxed Batman’s cape.

Tonight was no different.

The feeling of a criminal under him and at the mercy of his fists sent a tingle up his spine. A cackle ripped from his smile, the sound bouncing off the walls.

“Maybe next time you’re  _ robbin _ ’ a store you will watch for a little  _ Robin _ .”

All he got from that pun was a whimper. Rude.

Or maybe it was from his foot digging into the thief’s back.

Who knows?

“Wow Boy Wonder, I think he gets it.”

Robin spun around. His stance relaxed when he saw Batgirl perched on the firescape. Robin sent his elbow into the head of the man, knocking him unconscious. The man fell to the floor with a thump. Robin leaned back on the opposite wall to grin up at her.

“Hey Babs, what’s shaking?”

Her snort was almost inaudible, but Robin was triumphant over even the smallest victory. At least until she said,“I am finished doing my job for the night. You, on the other hand…”

When Robin followed her gaze he startled. The guy he beat the shit out of was heavily limping out of the alley. His arm cradled against his stomach, a stack of bills clutched with white knuckles.

“Sorry, Batgirl. I guess Crime doesn't sleep  _ or _ stay unconscious.” Robin sent a quick salute to Batgirl before taking off after the criminal.

—————-

When Dick donned the Robin suit, it was like a hug from his parents. Their little Robin was Flying like a true Grayson. Dat would have loved to grapple alongside Dick, while Dya would have jumped rooftops without anything to catch her. 

He dreamed of a peaceful Gotham, three colorful streaks racing along the rooftops.

But his hopes were always crushed when awakening.

The mask came on and he was suddenly a performer for Haley’s all over again. His smiles entranced bystanders. His quips amused villains. His incredible control of his body impressed even the harshest of critics. All that was left was his final bow, which he hoped to prolong as long as he could.

But deep in his heart he knew that his final exit would not make a crowd cheer, but gasp and cry like Dya and Dat’s did.

He didn’t deserve a clean end.

——————-

“Hey Dick, you know what all this is about?”

Dick looked over at a boy he couldn’t remember the name of. That brown hair did feel familiar though? Where has he seen those freckles from?

“No clue man. I’m just glad we are missing bio. Now I get another day to finish that definition worksheet.” He had tousled with a prostitution ring last night, any homework was unimportant in the face of a couple dozen terrified, hurt, and underaged girls.

Geometry. He knew the kid from geometry. Ross? Ryland? Randy?

“I getcha. I got a free pass out of English. Just hope it isn’t boring, I already want to nap.” The dude did in fact seem tired. His tanned skin was bruised under his eyes.

Dick really didn’t feel all that bad. This R kid probably got more than his 3 hours last night.

========

_ Abuse. _

The school was giving an abuse presentation. Like they were fucking children who didn’t grow up in Gotham. 

What these people classified as abuse made Dick want to snort, he would have laughed without his Robin training.

These people didn’t get it.

At all.

You can’t blame someone for a mistake they make every once in a while. A hit here or there. A night where loneliness really get to a person. You couldn’t blame someone for that when it was maybe once or twice a month.

People out there are getting beat nightly or sold to prostitution rings. And they are concerned about a measly smack?

Someone like Bruce had their bad moments. Bruce gets so damaged by being the Batman that he forgets how to be human. In those moments he is not Bruce, Brucie, or Batman, but someone  **evil** . 

And when that evil comes, Dick straightens his back and grits his teeth. As Robin, it is his duty to protect Bruce from Batman. Let Bruce do bad things, and when the Gotham bleeds out of his eyes Dick knows he has Bruce back.

Bruce’s apologetic manner was enough. Dick even got some hugs for putting up with a Gotham-infested and Batman-damaged Bruce.

Dick just had to put up with a couple bad nights. He could power through them.

In the end, Bruce was a great dad. He gave Dick everything he could dream of. He opened so many doors that there was no way Bruce didn’t love him. His way of showing it may be convoluted and fucked up, but he did truly love Dick.

Dick wanted to laugh.  _ Abuse _ . 

_ Abuse _ is what he stopped on a nightly basis, not being given everything he could ever desire and then some.

Bruce gave him so much, how could you call that abuse?


	2. The Horrible Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three days and a period of reflection is all it takes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m slowly going through what I have already written and editing it. Yikes. It was like I didn’t understand tenses at all. So if you see any mistakes please let me know. :)
> 
> VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED
> 
> PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE IF VIOLENCE OR ABUSE BOTHERS YOU

Dick’s last year of high school flipped his world on its head.

Dick had an insightful health lesson. The teacher spent three days on abuse. It was set up in a heavily interactive way, so each student not only had to evaluate their views, but had to challenge common defenses of abuse. It was a tense three days. It was evident that born and raised Gothamites had very “twisted” views on abuse.

The teacher had to pause class many different times in addressing “toxic” ideas.

It did lead to a period of reflection though. This lead to one of the worst epiphanies of Dick Grayson’s life.

Bruce abused him.

_ Bruce Wayne  _ the one and only  **Batman** abused his son.

As Dick went through his year as a crime fighting high school student, he kept a mental checklist of the types of abuse he went through.

_ Physical _

This was the most frequent, and all sidekick/mentor relationships contained some form of abuse(maybe?). Mentors pushed their sidekick, but there seemed to be a difference between abuse and training. 

One is about building up someone, the other is about tearing them down.

But, Dick still didn’t know where, exactly, the line was.

Bruce and Dick had no powers. Dick needed to be put under specialized training, but he highly doubted getting tied up and beaten (with the objective of bettering his pain tolerance) would qualify as “normal training”. But it was hard for Dick to know where to draw the line, what was training and what was abuse?

Was training abuse?

Luckily, Dick was a natural at crime fighting. If he was worse at being Robin, then maybe the “abuse” would have been more severe. 

The hits and kicks outside of crime fighting could easily be classified as abuse. When it was just Bruce and Dick, when Batman and Robin were pushed aside for father and son time, there were not supposed to be any violence. But Gotham still seeped in Bruce’s eyes, and bruises and split lips weren’t as rare as they should be.

_ Mental _

Dick didn’t know if what happened actually falls in the mental abuse category. Bruce’s reprimands were a bit harsher than the average parent, but can you really call that abuse? 

Dick was also so sensitive that he didn’t know if what hurt his feelings would hurt a normal person’s. 

Maybe Bruce didn’t even notice he was hurting his son.

Those Dick could argue against. He knew that his situation was nuanced. Standards for a civilian parent couldn’t be expected for a caped one. Right?

_ Sexual _

This one Dick couldn’t argue against. No matter how heartfelt his apologies were, it still didn’t excuse what happened. But, Dick found himself forgiving Bruce almost every time. 

Rape is such a ugly thing.

When he stopped rapists as Robin, it is different. Those are brutal and bloody. When Bruce did, it could be after a brutal and bloody beating, but he was always careful. Dick never was left torn, but lubed and stretched obscenely open.

His face was flushed with shame for days after. Being held open by Bruce’s fingers, having such a private part of himself exposed to lusting and judgemental eyes, having his  _ father figure’s entire fist up his ass _ ruined something inside Dick. It stripped something from Dick… something that he couldn’t put into words.

And worst of all?

Dick was so twisted that he would rather it be rough. He  **hated** the words. The ‘ _ my pretty Robin’ _ s _ , ‘just open up a little more, buddy, and it will be over soon’ _ s _ ,  _ and  _ ‘taking it so well’ _ s. He wished he was ripped open instead of left sated. He wished Bruce just took his pleasure without making Dick cum.

Dick couldn’t argue that what Bruce has done was right, but he still forgave him. Because while the world needed Batman, he needed his dad.

———————-

Dick knew it was coming up. Gotham was eating Bruce faster. He saw less and less of his dad as time went on.

Graduation was a little while ago. He graduated with decent grades, enough that Bruce spent a whole father and son day with no violence, just ice cream and crappy puns.

But that had been two weeks ago, and no Gotham-infested, Batman-damaged Bruce since. 

Dick was throwing up almost every meal he ate. His hands were constantly trembling. Every glance at Bruce sent his lungs in a battle to stay oxygenated.

He was pathetic enough to be worried that he hadn’t been on Lockdown for over a month.

He couldn’t stand it. He needed this to stop.

========

Dick waited for just the right moment. A rough patrol coupled with bringing a Gotham-infested Bruce back to reality gave him the perfect opportunity. He wasn’t bleeding anymore, thankfully Bruce felt comfortable letting Alfred tend to his wounds, knowing most weren’t inflicted by him.

Bandages wrapped snugly around his body. A brace on his left foot. A boot on his right foot. His face was a collage of bruises and cuts(butterfly bandaged or glued shut).

He knew he looked pitiful.  _ Weak _ even. So, with great effort, Dick snagged his crutches, he began the trek to the BatCave, towards his future freedom or imprisonment.

========

He checked the Cave for Alfred when he got there. His approach would depend on his presence or lack thereof. 

Dick and Bruce became good at avoiding Alfred’s detection, they simply put the Cave on Lockdown. Alfred had gotten used to the fact sometimes he couldn’t enter the BatCave for a couple hours while “sensitive” matters were handled. The only way to contact either of them was to put a call in through a specific phone that is hidden unless the Cave was on Lockdown. Alfred didn’t know what the Lockdown’s true nature was, they made sure.

Not that Alfred was happy with it. He was suspicious and was downright chilly when the protocol was put in. But Bruce fought tooth and nail for the Lockdown. It was one of the few fights Bruce won against Alfred.

Dick had always secretly hoped Alfred would have won.

But other than what happened in Lockdown and a couple times outside of that, Alfred had an omnipotence unparalleled to any person Dick has met.

So when Dick saw there was no Alfred, he took a deep breath and hit a hidden switch next to the Cave door. 

Lights flickered from their usual brightness to a dim, dingy yellow. The BatComputer turned off while Bruce was still typing away. All electronic devices saved their data, turned off, and went into an energy-saving state made for an apocalyptic situation. 

Dick took another steadying breath, his heart trying to escape his rib cage. 

It was drone time.

A sound of metal hatches opening made Dick shudder. Little buzzing and whirring noises made Dick’s eyes flicker from Bruce to the floor and back again. Bruce hadn’t moved.

As the drone swept for any non-Bruce authorized electronics, silence reigned. 

Metal hatches. No buzzing. It’s time.

Dick flicked the next switch.

Time to wait. 30 seconds.

Lead sheets infused with kryptonite, defensive padding, state-of-the-art soundproofing all slid into place. Layer after layer tightened around the Cave. He was trapped.

10 seconds.

One last steadying breath.

He gripped his crutches. 

His journey down to where Bruce sat was filled with Dick’s grunts and pants as he forced his sore body to move. The click-clacking of the crutches echoed alongside the bats.

Bruce slowly spun around. His face looked like it was carved out of stone, but his eyes betrayed his curiosity. Bruce’s jaw twitched in annoyance. Dick knew by the bloodshot eyes with bags that he was feeling guilty.

Never guilty enough to stop hurting his son though.

He lowered himself into the spinny chair next to Bruce’s. He remembered going out to the store to pick out a color for his room and seeing this chair. He begged for it. Bruce only let him have it after solving fifteen cases(he got it after nine).

Dick shook his head. His wandering thoughts could cost him this argument.  _ Don’t fuck this up. _

After spinning his chair around a couple times(just to bring a younger version of himself to Bruce’s mind, not because he liked his spinny chair,  _ duh _ ), he turned to Bruce. “I’m going to move out.”

Bruce didn’t move an inch. His expression didn’t change any. _ Okay. Press harder. _

“I can’t stay here anymore. Living here with you, Bruce, it is slowly ruining me. I need to go.”

Bruce sighed.  _ A reaction. _ “You really think that is a good idea?”

Dick clenched his jaw. “Yes.”

“Well I guess you don’t get to be my Robin anymore.”

Time froze.

“Wait-no. You can’t take Robin away from me!”

Bruce gave him a pitying look. “You want to leave. If you don’t want to be my Robin, I guess I will just have to find someone else. Someone who can handle what fighting crime really costs a person.” 

He said it so  _ casually.  _ Like he didn’t know he was ripping at Dick insides.

“Bruce.”  _ Your voice is shaking you idiot.  _ “I  **can’t** do this anymore… but...”  _ Don’t you dare fucking cry. _

Dick would forever remember Bruce’s cold eyes and marble face, so unlike his dad, but pure  **Batman** . Dick finally understood why criminals keep thinking Batman would kill them, though all evidence shows he wouldn’t. His eyes were not those of a good man.

“Then leave.”

And he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if anything has been weird when you were notified for the update, AO3 messed up on my phone so I had to redo on computer :/


	3. An Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life without Bruce was not all Dick had hoped for. His team was great, but he was not coping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that Dick's thoughts are severely twisted. I don't agree with the things he thinks, but I feel as though the story demands his unreliable narration for it to feel impactful.
> 
> His thoughts on his own abuse, polyamory(the way he puts himself down for wanting poly and wanting intimacy will be further explore so if that bothers you please skedaddle), and the way he should deal with sex is not what I would recommend or think myself. Dick has a lot of self discovery to go through.
> 
> SIDE NOTE, I HAVE NOT WRITTEN MUCH ON THE TITANS SO ANY FEEDBACK ON CHARACTERIZATION IS WELCOME!
> 
> VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED

Dick moved out of the Manor within half an hour.

Dick’s heart shattered at Alfred’s slow transition from confusion to understanding to heartbreak. Dick couldn’t resist giving him a bear hug that would make his Dya proud. 

Alfred packed up a picnic basket full of meals he whipped up while Dick packed. Dick spent that time stuffing three duffel bags full of clothes, knickknacks, and a couple of messy photo albums(Dick had the horrible habit of just laying the pictures between the pages).

He promised to stay in contact despite not living there anymore.

But…

One thing Bruce said stuck in his mind though.

** _ I guess I will just have to find someone else_ ** _ . _ ** _ Someone who can handle what fighting crime really costs a person._ **

One part of Dick wanted to turn right around, to run back to Bruce, and beg him to just forget what Dick said. But, Dick knew that his sanity was on its breaking point. He would rather die than spend another moment in this place.

He stowed away his belongings into a car Alfred brought to the entrance. He pulled out of the driveway, not knowing where he was going. Dick was driving towards his freedom, but his mind ate away at him.

_ Please don’t put someone else through this. _

————

The Titans were a breath of fresh air.

Dick loved working with someone other than Batman. His teammates may not be as skilled, but they all brought something unique to the table.

Wally was a friend from Before, but as Dick got away from Bruce’s influence, Wally became his best friend. They had great chemistry on the field. Off duty, Wally was a rock that was unparalleled in its support. Dick swore that his mouth moved faster than his feet. And watching him eat made Dick sick to his stomach.

He was a support that he always needed.

Victor was a figure cut in stern seriousness. Everything was taken with a solemn consideration. Dick loved fucking with him. Victor was one of his favorite sparring partners because Dick got to relentlessly tease him. Every shared smile or laugh was victory, a much needed sign that they had humanity.

He was a constant in his chaotic life.

Gar was his fellow jokester friend. When one failed to keep a smile on, the other would step in with a joke. Gar understood laughing and grinning through pain. Gar’s unwillingness to give up on his friends even when in pain was truly awe inspiring. His smile and green smile lines became the highlights of Dick’s day.

He understood his coping mechanisms and made it easier to cope.

Donna Troy was something else. She was one of the only friends he never had any sexual interest in. She was such an amazing person that Dick just wanted to spend hours talking strategy and picking at her mind. Her determination was a force to be reckoned with on and off the field. He saw something in her that sharply reminded him of himself.

She was the sister he had always wanted.

Roy was an asshole. A complete asshole. But Dick appreciated his asshole nature, it stopped him from making dumb decisions. Every bad life choice he made, Roy would nag him in the most rude and crude way possible.

He was someone who kept him honest.

Raven was beautiful. She was a hardworking badass that deserved all the love in the world. It made Dick’s heart ache knowing she was denying herself emotions. His fear of her finding out about Bruce’s true nature and Dick’s part in reining in that nature was always smaller than his want to show that he loved her. That in itself was terrifying, knowing that he would bare his emotions, soul, and secrets if she only asked.

Raven was a reminder to keep his emotions in check.

Kori was a gift. She was someone he loved with everything he had and saw himself spending the rest of his life with. Her kindness, badassery, and resolve in the face of trouble made Dick’s lust turn to love. It also helped that she could totally kick his ass. The way she threw herself with open arms and an open heart contradicted everything he had ever learned from Batman.

Kori made him want to be a better person.

———————

Kori and Dick’s relationship was far from perfect. 

He wasn’t ready for sex. He knew that, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her that. He couldn’t answer the inevitable ‘ _ why?’ _ that he knew she would ask. 

Plus, he wanted sex. He wanted her so bad he could hardly breathe sometimes. Dick wanted that intimate touch with Kori, or with anyone he really cared about. He wanted that closeness, that feeling of  _ togetherness _ .

When he went in a makeout session, it is not like he could just  _ stop _ . That would be unfair to her. Kori may not be able to get blue balls, but it would probably frustrate her.

He wasn’t ready. 

But he powered through.

Over half the time they have sex he had flashbacks.

No matter what he tried, he got flashbacks.

They trapped his mind. Dick’s mind rewatched memory after memory of his and Bruce’s relationship. Sometimes, they weren’t even the  _ bad _ memories.

The flashbacks didn’t really affect his outward appearance though. He still moaned, grunted, and cursed. He was just very silent otherwise. His body worked on instinct, and apparently his instincts were great.

They explored different sex positions (Kori just thought he liked to change it up). They tried pegging (Dick couldn't sleep without nightmares for weeks). They tried bondage and other BDSM-based things (he just wasn’t able to bring himself to be vulnerable, no matter how much he wanted to). Even having normal missionary freaked Dick out, which was confusing, as he never was a top when Bruce and him fucked.

So it wasn’t that weird when an intense makeout threw him into a flashback.

_ Hands. Lips on neck. ‘My Robin, are you going to sing?’ Hands. Clothes gone. Pinned. Lube, slick, popping, fingers. Gaping open and vulnerable. STOP NO. ‘That is not the music I want. No coming until you sing.’ Monster. Why is he so different? Gotham-infested. When the first ‘please’ escaped his lips the first tear dropped. _

He came back to reality breathing hard on his back. His orgasm triggered by the thorough fucking. He took a couple panting breaths and sent a grin up at Kori- wait. No. Oh god.

=========

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know.

But they wouldn’t believe him. It made sense. He should have known. If it weren’t for that damn flashback, he probably would have known.

  
  
  


Maybe…

He cheated.

Every time he tried to explain, the words got caught in his throat.

He cheated on someone he loved. How fucked up was he?

Dick was just like  ** _him_ ** .

He didn’t deserve her.

Yet, she still stayed with him.

He was pathetic. 

———

Dick remembered the moment vividly.

He was in his messy apartment in Blüdhaven. He was sitting criss-cross in the floor. His ongoing serial robbery case as Nightwing was sprawled all around him. The TV was on, but muted in case of another robbery.

When he glanced up at the news coverage, he froze. Scrolling across the bottom of some footage of Bruce giving a speech read:

** _BRUCE WAYNE TAKES IN ANOTHER WARD. STRIKING RESEMBLANCE TO PREVIOUS WARD. PATTERN?_ **

Dick scrambled to get the keys to his bike before he raced to the door. Papers were kicked up in his mad rush. His television still playing news on mute as the door slammed shut.

=========

Alfred opened the door. He tried to say something to Dick, but Dick just pushed past him in a speed walk.

“We’re going on Lockdown.” Was curtly thrown at Alfred.

_ Please don’t be too late.  _

=========

The second Dick saw Bruce was alone, the switch was flipped.

As the process of Lockdown happened, the silence grew. Anger and panic made Dick forget to be even scared.

Just as the last layer of protection was put up, Dick advanced on Bruce. He was standing by one of the weapon racks by the mats. He looked like he was about to spar with some training bots if the workout clothes were any indication. Bruce had turned to him slowly as the Lockdown started.

Dick growled,“How dare you.”

A raised eyebrow. “What other option was there?”

“I don’t know! How about getting a prostitute! Or finally grow balls and ask out Selina! Go fucking spar with Clark!”

Dick forced himself to calm down once he saw Bruce’s face darken. All he could do was whisper, “B, just tell me, have you hurt him?”

Bruce rolled his eyes and let out a huff. “You act like I am constantly out hurt someone. We both know I can suppress the urge long enough. I was waiting for you to come here. We needed to have a discussion on how to proceed.”

Dick had to push down an unholy rage. “You used the boy to manipulate me.” A harsh laugh ripped at his vocal chords. Hysteria tinged his mind as he bent over laughing. “God B, what the fuck are we doing? Why does none of this shit surprise me anymore?” Tears stung at his eyes.

Bruce was quiet for a moment. Then his perpetually steady voice said,”I need a Robin. He has already started his training.”

His heart sunk. His mind raced. “Call me.” 

“What?” Bruce looked perplexed. “You said you couldn’t do it anymore. I may be cruel in those moments, but I respect you enough that I won’t force you to deal with me like that.” Bruce face looked so damn regretful and apologetic. His voice was still pretty flat, but those who knew him well could hear the undercurrents of caring in his voice.

But, Bruce didn’t seem to realize that Dick couldn’t put some kid through what he went through.

Desperation leaked into his voice. “Don’t hurt him. Call me and we can arrange something. No hitting, kicking, or any other harm with this kid. Avoid saying things that a good father or mentor would not say. Under  ** _no_ ** circumstances do you rape that kid.”

Bruce flinched, his mask finally cracking. “I- Dick-  _ need _ a Robin. Not just-“

Dick’s heart ached. He knew he was being played, but his  _ dad _ looked so sad. “You need a sidekick.”

Bruce looked at him like he had lost his mind. “Robin was never a sidekick. You would have ripped my head off if I called you that.”

“You also fucked me at least once a week.” Bruce visibly cringed at that. Guilt ate at Dick for wording everything so crudely, but it was so cathartic. “This Robin will never do that. He is not your equal. He is not your partner. He is your  _ child _ . He is your  _ sidekick _ . Call him whatever he is comfortable with, as long as you know the truth. You treat him like a normal parent would treat his normal son.”

Bruce’s face closed back up. His jaw clenched. “I know I am a shit father-“ He ignored Dick’s snort. “ _ But  _ I love you, you are my son. Above all, I shouldn’t treat you the way I do, but I don’t know what else to do.

“I love Selina with all my heart, but she deserves better. She doesn’t deserve someone who wants to beat and roughly fuck her. She needs to be treated as the queen she is.

“I can’t get a prostitute. I can’t get one as Brucie or Bruce because of the chance of the press catching wind. I can’t get one as Batman because that would invalidate all I have worked for.

“You said you couldn’t handle being my Robin, so what do you suggest?”

“Once a month,”Dick felt as though he was signing his death sentence when he repeated,”Call me when you need it. Start dating Selina to get your sex drive down and spar with Clark and Diana to take the edge of your aggression. 

But do not lay a hand on that boy, do you understand? The minute you abuse another Robin, I am turning you in.”

Dick sucked air into his lungs. He laid everything out, said everything he needed to, now he just needed to  _ do it _ .

He knew what he had to do. Without looking away from Bruce’s pitying face, Dick grabbed a wooden staff from the weapons stand and whacked the side of Bruce’s head. He watched in utter despair when Bruce looked up with

_ Gotham- _

_ Infested _

_ Eyes. _

————————-

Dick was crumbling.

The flashbacks, nightmares, and constantly hiding behind a facade wore on him.

Kori thought he was cheating. She knew he was lying and avoiding something big. And when he started avoiding sex with her, what was she supposed to think?

Every time he went to look in the mirror, all he could see were wide blue eyes peering over the Manor’s banister.

Dick couldn’t eat. He didn’t want to shower or exercise.

He crumbled under the weight of being Robin once again.

Dick knew something would break soon.

—————

Kori, someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, was to be married to another man.

Her family  _ forced _ her to marry this guy. It was her  _ duty _ to marry this guy. Most likely, she would be expected to birthe an heir with this man.

He couldn’t do it.

Kori said that she wanted to be with this man  _ and _ him, but that is not how they do things. Dick found out pretty quickly that having multiple partners is something that is forbidden. Polyamory was not allowed in the US and Dick had to adjust his viewpoint on relationships pretty drastically to fit in.

Kori was suggesting a polyamorous relationship.

He remembered his parents. He remembered their loving relationship and the other relationships they had. Their boyfriends and girlfriends becoming his Aunts and Uncles. He remembered their talks about how to find  _ the One or the Many _ .

Dick also remembered their warnings against speaking about having  _ many _ outside the circus.

That bit of advice was something Dick has taken to heart. He remembered when Uncle Ferny was found kissing not only Aunt Nin, but also Uncle Tonu behind one of the tents. He remembered how Uncle Ferny told him to run as a mob started to close in.

His Dya was heartbroken. Dat had to pull him aside to remind him against showing outsiders you loved  _ many _ .

He didn’t want to remember that.

So he decided it was finally time to break it off.

It would hurt like hell. Dick really didn’t want to do it. But on the plus side, he wouldn’t have to keep lying to Kori. He wouldn’t have to keep cheating(is it cheating is it r- nonconsensual?). 

But when he saw her tears and heard her pleads, he had never hated himself any more than he did in that moment.

Because deep down, he wanted a poly relationship with her. 

Monogamy didn't work for him. He had too much love and craved too much affection. Dick wanted intimacy with almost everyone was close to. His body was so fucked up it didn’t realize caring for someone didn’t mean you needed to fuck them.

——————

Dick dreaded his life. He really did.

During his monthly visit to the manor, Bruce started acting differently. It went from  _ Robin be still _ ’s to  _ you shouldn’t be around children’ _ s. It was hard to figure out what was happening through the concussion and getting fucked until he was coming dry.

Bruce was talking to himself.

More specifically, he was treating Dick like  _ Dick _ was Bruce. It was like some kind of fucked up roleplay. Which kind of made sense with how the similarities in their looks factored into Bruce taking him in as his ward.

And for the first time in a while, Dick started to struggle against Bruce.

==============

When Dick felt like he wouldn’t break going up stairs, he started his mission. 

He knew that this was a bad idea, but it was necessary. 

Alfred was in the kitchen. Just as he hoped.

Dick pulled himself up to sit on the counter. His muscles protested. It was really hard not to wince when his ass was gaping and sore. But he pushed himself to lean back and rest his sprained wrists on the counter behind his back, hoping to hide the ring of purpling bruises from Alfred.

Luckily, Dick had years of experience hiding his injuries. His legs swung back and forth lightly hitting the cabinets in a soothing beat. Extra points for it causing one more distraction.

“So Alf, what’s it going to cost to get some bonding time with little bro? Cause I have a  **great** plan that I think will blow his itty bitty mind.”

Alfred’s face remained solemn, but there were signs of amusement written in the wrinkles around his eyes. 

A voice from the doorway made him jump(not noticeably unless you knew his tells). “I’m not sure I’m the one with a small brain,  _ Dick _ .”

Dick turned and his breath caught in his chest.

He was so similar to Dick and Bruce with the hair and eyes. But yet so unique. His hair was black, but it had a natural wavy curl that gave it natural volume. Dick’s and Bruce’s had straight-as-a-dry-noodle hair. His blue eyes had some green in them. His face was slightly scarred with what looked like a couple nasty knife slashes. The boy’s facial structure would undeniably give way to a beautifully handsome man. 

Dick felt a rush of self loathing.  _ No better than him. Look at you lusting over a  _ ** _boy_ ** _ . A poor little boy already taken in by a man who planned to abuse him. Who is  _ ** _underaged_ ** _ . _ The twisting in his lower abdomen made him nauseous.

_ You idiot. Don’t be so quiet for so long.  _ “I’m hurt Little Wing.”

The way his cute face curled up in disgust made Dick rewind the conversation a little to make sure he didn’t fuck something up. His snarled,”Don’t call me that,” calmed Dick down.

The full Grayson smile was out. “Come on Little Wing, time for bonding time. Pack a bag for a day and overnight,” he let a dramatic pause fill the air,“And pack  **warm.”**

One more cute disgruntled face was thrown Dick’s way, before he stomped his way out of the kitchen. His sneakers shaking off flakes of dirt in his rampage. Poor Alfred had his forehead wrinkled up, probably staving off a headache.

“Alfred, don’t hold this against me, but what is his name?”

The weary sigh made Dick’s lips twitch, forgetting the pain his body was in for a second.

=================

Two people. One a shattered boy that forced into situations where his fragments were his only weapons. Another boy that was actually a man, who was shattered and pieced together, only to have portions of himself get ground to dust by someone he loves.

Two boys, targeted for their looks and horrible life experiences, sat and genuinely laughed at stupid jokes.

One was desperate for affection.

One was desperate to protect.

They sat in snow ignoring their problems for a bit. The cold numbed their faces enough that a smile was hard to fake. Luckily, there were no fake smiles.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too sure on this chapter, it has some elements I'm really prod of, but I'm just not sure I nailed the Mirage and Kori scenes at all. Feed back on that or on typos is always welcome.
> 
> Thoughts on Bruce?


	4. Your Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason Todd and the inevitable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO MATURE CONTENT OF ANY KIND PLEASE STOP RIGHT NOW! VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!
> 
> This was a really hard chapter to write and it is incredibly dark. This Bruce is out of character, so please take that into consideration before reading.

Everything went according to plan.

Bruce called him once a month for a family dinner and a Lockdown. He sparred with Diana and Clark. Bruce’s aggression towards criminals lowered so much that those apprehended didn’t have to be immediately rushed to the hospital.

Batman was back on the public’s good side.

Dick, on the other hand, was single and busy establishing himself as Nightwing. He continued to work mission after mission with the Titans. 

He tried to stop falling apart(failing spectacularly).

His apartment became a cluttered mess, dirty dishes piled up, unclean clothes piled up into layers(the carpet wasn’t visible anymore), and take-out boxes started smelling. His curtains were permanently drawn and held closed with binder clips. Dick avoided the mirror in his bathroom and his bathroom in general.

Family dinners were both a blessing and a curse.

Dick got to see Alfred, who was a blessing within himself.

Dick got to see Jason, who was his replacement. Jason was the recipient of all the great parts Bruce could offer and was spared the twisted and Gotham-rotted parts. Jason, who already has had a traumatic and harsh life, whose  _ safety _ was solely placed on Dick’s shoulders.

Jason, who Dick could barely look at without feeling sick to his core. 

Jason, who would never know.

He would never  _ know. _ He would never hear the whispers of “ _ I know you want him”  _ and _ “I see the way you look at him” _ and _ “You wanted to fuck him against the Batmoblie, don’t you” _ that were present during Lockdown. He would never know that sometimes the injuries he had during family dinners were just given in the “debriefing” during the Lockdown before dinner.

Jason would never know, and Dick wasn’t sure if that was a curse or a blessing. He wasn’t sure whether it was a curse or blessing that Jason would never know how  _ fucking lucky he was _ .

Dick wanted to scream, yell, and stomp his feet. He wanted someone,  _ anyone _ , to acknowledge him. He wanted to stop being a shield, but if he had to, Dick just wanted to be  _ thanked or hugged or  _ ** _something other than hated_ ** . While that is incredibly selfish, Dick couldn’t help it. There was something so much more infuriating about hiding the Lockdown than hiding being a vigilante. He thinks that deep down, he just wants one of Dya’s healing hugs. 

So sometimes, Dick couldn't look at Jason. 

Sometimes, he looked away in shame, because the nagging voice in the back of his head.

_ Look at him _

_ Bet you want to get you hands in that hair _

_ So cute, huh,  _ ** _you just want to corrupt him_ **

_ Wonder if you could fuck him into submission _

The voice was a mix of Bruce and his own internal voice. It was strange. Those words were said during Lockdown, but Dick was unsure whether Bruce was talking  _ about _ him or  _ to  _ him. A part of him wondered,  _ would I actually do something like that _ ?

So… he did what he did best, avoid the situation entirely.

He went to the Mansion, got beat up(there could be an argument that there was sometimes torture involved), got fucked, got to see Alfred, got some good food, and got to avoid Jason.

He went on missions, pretended his strained and broken relationships with his teammates didn’t bother him.

He went home to his shitty apartment, only to let it fall further into ruin.

Dick started to notice that his facade was beginning to slip.

————————

Dick knew that Bruce’s side of the bargain was upheld in the fact that there was a clear father-son relationship growing between Bruce and Jason.

Bruce gave Jason his credit card “to go have fun”, in which Jason spent as much as he could every time to dissuade such “dumbass behavior”. Dick laughed whenever Jason smugly told him the ridiculous amounts of money he would blow. Bruce would just look fondly at the boy, trying to tell him a couple hundred didn’t even make a dent.

Jason gave Bruce a #1 Dad mug as an April Fools gift. It became Bruce’s most used cup in retaliation.

Bruce bought anything Jason even mentioned in passing. Jason would donate over half the stuff to a nearby battered women’s shelter in protest.

And Dick wasn’t quite sure what he thought, the relationship is everything Dick asked of Bruce, but some part of him hated it. Dick hated that Bruce asked him so much advice,  _ put so much fucking effort in _ , because it just made it all the more clear to Dick that his relationship with Bruce wasn’t what he thought it was.

\-----------------

This mission was pretty horrible.

There was this sick feeling in his gut that Dick just couldn’t wave off. It felt  _ wrong _ . His instincts were  _ screaming _ at him, but as the month-long mission drew to a close, Dick couldn’t help but feel like the other shoe had yet to drop. The mission went too smoothly for his stomach to be in such a big knot.

Dick hated it. The successful mission didn’t felt victorious, but sinister.

It all felt  _ wrong _ .

===========================

Knowing that Bruce hadn’t had a Lockdown in over a month, Dick rushed to the BatCave. There was a piece of Dick that was terrified.  _ Was this feeling there because Bruce broke his promise? Did going on such a long mission break  _ his _ side of the deal? Would Bruce be understanding? _

So when he ran over to the hidden switch, Dick didn’t immediately notice anything wrong.

Dick didn’t see Bruce’s slouched figure.

Dick see the memorial case.

Dick didn’t  _ see _ something was direly wrong.

While sequence initiated, he finally  _ saw _ .

“Bruce?”

“Get. Out.” The gritted words and the tightening of shoulders was all the answer Dick got. It was all the answer Dick  _ should have needed. _

With a sick curiosity, Dick crept up the metal stairs towards Bruce. He hoped to get a better look at Bruce to gauge how bad it was. He tentatively but cheerfully said, “If this is about how long the mission was, I thought I told you before I went it would be a month or so?”

Dick wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting, but a hand around the throat was not it.

“I. Said. Get. Out.” Every word was punctuated with a violent shake.

Through the shaking and choking, Dick noticed red flag after red flag. Bruce’s face had a slight sheen of grease, meaning he hadn’t taken a shower for at least three days. His unshaven face practically oozed Gotham madness, his eyes bugged and veins popped with a Gotham anger.

_ Something’s wrong. _

“Bruce?” He couldn’t tell what his voice was doing. The words came out choked, but almost  _ fearful? _

_ Was he scared? _

“This is your fault!” Dick was thrown to the floor. His spine complained as it collided with the metal floor so roughly. He wasn’t sure if getting up would make the situation worse, so he stayed and looked up at the looming  _ Gotham-Bat-Bruce-B-Man _ .

“What?” He loathed how much he sounded like a scared and lost child.

“ _ None of this would have happened if you had just  _ ** _done your job_ ** _ !” _

Dick flinched back. He couldn’t tell if it was still aimed at him, as in Dick, or him, as in  _ Dick as Bruce. _

“He’s dead!”

Dick’s heart jackknifed in his chest.  _ Something’s wrong. _ “Who?”

“Jason,” the word came out in a child-like sing-song voice, the name catching in all the wrong places, coming out mangled.

It felt as though Bruce was still choking him. “What did you do?”

“What did I do?  _ What did I do? _ ” The growl shook the world with the depth and volume in which it was shouted. “I listened to your idiotic drivel! I tried to be a  _ father _ instead of a  _ mentor _ ,” it was said with such venom Dick flinched away once more. “I  _ listened _ to  ** _you_ ** !”

Bruce took a moment out of his rant to land a kick to Dick’s sternum. His face looked inhuman as it twisted above Dick. The disgust and disdain from Bruce(was it really Bruce?) made him shake and curl inwards.

“I slacked on him training. I didn’t  _ crush out his disobedience streak as well as I could with you. _ So he went out and got himself himself killed.”

Dick couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t  _ comprehend _ .

Jason

Was

Dead

_ And it was his fault. _

His freak out was put on pause when Bruce pulled him up by the collar. 

All that filled the silence was Dick’s panicked breaths and Bruce’s loud and steady ones.

Bruce’s face was so  _ so _ close. His breath stunk. His eyes were hot and cold, the fire of anger were tempered with a cold determination. “ _ And you will pay.” _

That was the first time Bruce had ever fucked him without lube.

But, that wasn’t why Dick couldn’t stop crying.

It was because that with Bruce forcing him to ride him in the BatChair, he saw not only the #1 Dad mug sat by the keyboard, but the autopsy photos of one Jason Todd.

——————

After that day Dick had to wonder,  _ did Bruce ever love him as a son? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took a lot of courage to post this. I'm terrified to post this because of how dark it is and I'm worried about getting my intentions misread. I don't condone any of these actions. I also don't believe that canonically Bruce would do this, but is it an AU, so if you have any problems please stop reading.
> 
> I will be going through the story and editing it once I finish part 1, so if anything is wrong or hard to understand, please tell me.
> 
> I'm putting this story on hiatus. I have lost interest in writing this story as of now, I plan on finishing eventually but right now I think it is best to tell you all not to expect updates for a couple months. Sorry to long time readers.

**Author's Note:**

> I am extremely slow at updates and have other stories I am working on so please be patient. 
> 
> Comments and feedback will speed up the process.
> 
> This is not beta read so any corrections are welcome.


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